


Piety

by shatteredjewels



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Religious Conflict, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-30 05:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10869855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredjewels/pseuds/shatteredjewels
Summary: From now on, they'll worship each other.Or, the immediate aftermath of Breath of the Wild.





	1. Chapter 1

"Do you remember me?"

Link had no answer for that question. Because in that moment, seeing her with the blood and muck from that awful day one hundred years ago still staining her dress, his memories of her overwhelmed him. Everything from his first glimpse of her as she watched him training with his father in the soldiers' courtyard to those last minutes when she gathered him into her arms and her precious tears dripped onto his face flashed through his mind like the images of a Sheikah slate. A simple yes could not encompass everything he felt in the moment, and yet a million words wouldn't do his emotions justice. 

So instead, Link did what he did best. He moved. 

She stood four steps from him. He covered the distance between them and wrapped her in his arms. She let out a watery sounding laugh and wiggled far enough away to snake her arms between them until she could return his hug. "I'll take that as a yes, then," she murmured, tightening her hold around his chest. He responded by burying his face in the crook between her neck and collarbone and inhaling deeply. She was here. She was safe. He knew that for her, the separation felt much longer as she had remained conscious during his long sleep and memory loss, but still. All the remembered months apart stung.

She allowed him to hold her for long moments, both occasionally tightening and loosening their grips as though reassuring themselves of the other's presence. But finally, Zelda slid her hands from his shoulder blades to his chest and gently pushed him back. She didn't move him far; she stayed close enough to lift her hand and place her palm on his cheek. "Look at you," she whispered, taking him in. "The image of you dying in my arms has haunted me so. And yet here you are, safe and sound."

He lifted his own hand to catch hers against his face, taking comfort in the ever soft touch of her skin. "And you," he said, finally speaking to her. "You are just as lovely as ever."

His comment made her laugh a bit, and lightened the mood as she dragged her hand out from under his to brush at her dress. "I suppose you meant that as a compliment," she said, taking in her ragged appearance. "Or perhaps you didn't. One never knows with you. But either way, I will be much relieved once I am out of this cursed dress." She shot him one of her breathtaking smiles. "Wouldn't you agree?"

He answered by dragging her back into his arms. 

They agreed, once they'd finally mustered the will to separate once again, that rest and food were in order for the both of them. Link whistled for Epona and lifted Zelda up into the saddle before climbing up behind her. To his surprise, she didn't complain that he hadn't allowed her to climb up herself. "Honestly," she said, reading his expression as he wrapped a spare blanket around her shoulders, "I don't think I've ever been this tired in my entire life. If you didn't have a horse, I might have made you carry me."

Sure enough, during the half days ride to Riverside Stable, she dozed off in his arms. Though he would have enjoyed hearing her voice carrying on and on to fill the silence like old times, he found the feel of her body against his an acceptable trade. 

He nudged her once the stable came into view, and it took long moments for her eyes to open. Even then, he had to gently shake her to keep them from closing again.

"That's new, isn't it?" she said, voice bemused and sleepy as the stable drew near. "This wasn't here before."

Her statement made him frown as one of Ember's stable hands ran out to lead them in, aware now that traveling for her would be quite a bit different than traveling for him. His memory loss had spared him from too much attachment to the ruin of his home, but for her, it could be devastating. As the boy led Epona over to where Ember had just vaulted over the counter, he vowed to spare her as much as he could, at least for a little while. 

Link dismounted first, but before he could turn and help Zelda, Ember had his arm clasped between his hands. "We are relieved to see you, Link," the man said, a fervent gleam in his eye. "Most of us had counted you for dead when you left us last."

Link shrugged. Obviously he'd survived. He turned just in time to catch Zelda as she stumbled when her feet hit the ground. She frowned at him, but he ignored that and slipped his arm under hers, just in case her knees buckled again. Ember took her in, torn dress and all, and Link could practically see the connections in his brain fire. "My lady," he said, with a slight bow. "Are you alright?"

"I am well, thank you" Zelda answered. "But I'm afraid I am in terrible need of a bath and fresh clothing. Would you be so kind as to allow me to infringe on your hospitality?"

"Please," he answered. "Follow me."

Inside, Ember's wife took one look at Zelda before her eyes widened to the size of tea saucers. "My goodness," she breathed, curtsying to his Princess. "My lady, are you alright?"

Zelda smiled. "Your husband asked the same question. I am quite well, thank you. I appreciate the concern of you and your husband, but all that I need right now is a bath."

"Oh, of course. Right this way, my lady. As long as you don't mind me acting as your maid?"

Zelda laughed then, a practiced sound to Link's ear, meant to put the woman at ease. "I won't mind one bit. I think you'll find I am not at all picky when it comes to such things."

The woman nodded, and ventured a smile of her own. "Will you please follow me  
then?" she said, bobbing another clumsy curtesy. Zelda nodded, but then bit her lip. She turned to look at Link, her grip on his arm tightening. He met her gaze, keeping his expression even, despite the fact that he didn't want her out of his sight either. Still, whatever she saw in his face seemed to satisfy her, as she relaxed her hold, arms trailing down to her sides.

He watched her until she disappeared into the family quarters, and only when the door shut did he turn his attention to Ember. "Is that who I think it is?" Ember asked, still eyeing the closed door.

"It is," Link answered. "And Hyrule Castle is well on its way to being safe again."

"Goddesses," the man swore, rubbing at his face. "After all these years." He dragged his hand down to his chin, considering. "We don't have any private beds except for mine and Lea's. Will our room be suitable for her?"

"She won't want a private room," Link said. "She won't," he repeated, at Ember's aghast expression. "I'd like an extra soft bed for her if you have one available, but she'll want to be treated just like everyone else."

"I can't possibly allow—"

"That is her way," Link interrupted, his stern tone allowing no room for argument. This was, after all, the princess who once tried to convince him to break the lock on a stable door for her, solely so they could sleep in the hayloft rather than disturb the farm's occupants.

But Ember disagreed anyway. "Sir, I cannot allow this. She is our princess, our queen!" Link noted the volume of his voice and swept his eyes over the common room, where the other patrons were perking up and turning to listen. So much for anonymity then. "My grandfather promised me this day would come, and here it is. She must be treated with the respect due—"

"You may offer her your respects by giving her what she wants. She does not appreciate special treatment."

Ember held his tongue this time, but Link could see the hint of mutiny in his eyes. "If you want to do something for her, then you can take care of something for me," he said, relenting. "I've got a white horse boarded over at Outskirt Stable. I'd like for it to be brought over here for her."

The task appeased the man, or at least distracted him, as he led Link over to his counter so he could fill out a request to send to Outskirt. "So you'll be back?" Ember asked. 

"Eventually. We're off for Hateno in the morning, to allow her time and space to rest. After that, I am at her command."

"Very good, very good," Ember said, rubbing his hands together as Link signed and sealed the missive. "Please assure her Majesty that we are hers to command as well."

Link nodded, fighting back the temptation to roll his eyes. He appreciated the loyalty, but Zelda was not yet in a position to truly accept any oaths. They'd just barely destroyed Ganon, and yet here was a Hylian already dreaming of his kingdom's returned glory. There would be others, and they'd lay all the pressure of those hopes on one person's shoulders. 

Frankly, he wasn't ready to share her again. Not yet. And with that in mind, he chose a seat far from the whispering patrons at the dinner table. 

When Zelda returned, she looked much more relaxed. The dress was gone, replaced by homespun leggings and a linen tunic dyed green. "His wife is very kind," she told Link, joining him at the table. "She insisted on giving me clothing; she wouldn't even listen when I offered to pay. I had her burn the dress. I told her I'd toss it in the fire myself if necessary, but I kept the jewelry. I suppose I need something to prove my legitimacy, and the bracelets were a royal treasure."

"I don't think you'll have any trouble in that regard," Link said, inclining his head to the other side of the table. Zelda glanced over and sighed as she saw the sudden frenzy of bows and bobbing heads. "Please," she said, voice pitched to carry through the pavilion. "Be at ease. We are all guests here, including me. It would please me greatly to not cause a disturbance."

She nodded to accept the vocalized cries of support and then turned her face back to Link. He shifted his chair to partially block her from view. The other people were still hissing frantic comments at one another, some rude enough to point in their direction, but the behavior wasn't obnoxious enough to warrant removing Zelda from the room. "That didn't take long, did it?" she said, leaning close. "I'm surprised. Belief in my eternal fight does press against reason."

"I'm not," Link said, but did not elaborate. Later he'd tell her of the rumors whispered in the back rooms of the taverns, of the number of knights that threw their lives away to save her, of the legend that continued to grow and grow the longer she was trapped. But tonight, he wanted to shield her from that legacy. She'd lived enough with expectations before; he wanted to spare her more for at least a little longer.

He ordered her simple food and milk to help her sleep. She ate the meal without complaint and was nodding off against his shoulder by the end of it. "I'm so sorry, Link," she murmured as he helped her stand. "I'm just so tired."

"You fought him for a century, Zelda. I just took him on for one day. You have reason to be tired."

"I suppose," she said, eyeing her bed in the corner longingly. "Will you be close?"

"I'll be in the bed right beside you."

"Alright," she said, and then conscious of the other patrons eyeing them, fled to the privacy of her bed and its surrounding curtain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're starting this baby off short and slow, but there will be more plot eventually. I just figured that after fighting Ganon, they'd both want a nap before dealing with any lingering feelings.  
> I should also note that while Nintendo gave us only a handful of memories, in my version of canon, Link gets the majority of his memory back. I just prefer it that way, hence the extra snippets not included in the game. Next chapter, we will watch these two get from one place to another. Fascinating, I know, but fear not, there will be some cute fluff. See you then.


	2. Chapter 2

Zelda slept through breakfast. Ember kept the pavilion quiet, which wasn't difficult as most of the occupants deserted the stable at dawn. Link treated himself to the sweet side of the breakfast buffet, a welcome reward for defeating Ganon and found amusement by thumbing through one of Traysi's gossip rags as he waited for the Princess to wake. 

An hour passed, and then another. Link waited until Ember headed out in the stables and Lea busied herself baking bread in the kitchen before he slipped over to Zelda's bed and twitched the curtain aside. He found her curled up facing away from where he stood. A light touch on her back confirmed that she was still breathing, and Link found himself rubbing his face as he returned to the table.

Goddesses, for a moment... But no. She just needed to rest. He'd slumbered a century; it was hardly surprising that she needed a few extra hours. Still, he found himself marking the time with concern. 

He had to stifle a sigh of relief when the curtain opened revealing a yawning princess shortly before noon.

She pulled on a pair of socks and padded over to him, rubbing the crust from her eyes. "It must be almost noon," she said, eyeing the bright sun outdoors as she sat next to him at the table. "I'm shocked you let me sleep in that long. You should have woken me."

"You needed the rest," he countered, and she rolled her eyes. 

"I was not the one running around smacking things with a sword yesterday. You have an excuse to laze about; I do not. I'm sure I've affected your travel plans."

Link shrugged. "I was planning on pushing for Hateno today, but there's no rush as long as we get through the pass before it snows. Which shouldn't be for a few more weeks. We'll be fine."

"Still," she said, accepting a cup of tea from Lea. "I have no intention of slowing you down. If you have a plan, you should keep to that plan. I ask that you wake me next time."

The delay did have its benefits, as Beetle staggered into the stable right after lunch. From his oversized pack, they were able to get Zelda a reasonably fitted coat and some boots. She had to borrow a second pair of wool socks from Lea to keep the boots from slipping off her feet, but they would do for the time being. 

He left his Princess in the pavilion to offer her gratitude to Ember and the staff and slipped out to the stable to saddle Epona. An routine task, but one that caused Link to pause as he considered the day ahead. It would be easier, safer, and far more comfortable to rent a second horse for Zelda, but after brief consideration, Link waved off the groomsman. He'd had her in his arms yesterday. Why not today?

The arch look she shot him when he rode up on Epona screamed that she knew exactly what he was up to. He smirked back, not above a little mischief. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, but climbed up behind him just the same. 

And of course, once the stable was out of sight, her true feelings emerged when she wrapped her arms around his waist and tucked her head on his shoulder, her breath tickling his ear. He slipped the reins into one hand and interlaced his fingers with hers, both their palms resting against his stomach. "Sweet merciful Din, how I missed you," she murmured into his ear, wrapping her unoccupied arm more tightly around his middle, thus drawing her body more snuggly against his back. 

The tone of her voice and feel of her hips and breasts pressing gently into his body sent a lick of heat through Link, originating where her hand rested dangerously close to his hip. He fought the desire down. Not yet. As much as he'd like to lead Epona off the road and drag Zelda down to soft grass below, now was not the time. They still needed to talk, to come to terms with their new situation, and she didn't need any additional pressures from him. There was no rush. 

With that in mind, he untangled his fingers from hers and turned his attention to the reins. She allowed it, but kept her head on his shoulder. He kept Epona at a steady walk, not wanting any jouncing to make her shift away. He’d spent months exploring this land almost completely alone, not understanding at first why he physically ached for companionship. The slow return of his memory had made it clear just why, as the two of them had been all but attached at the hip for the better part of a year before Ganon’s return. The weight on his shoulder was a balm against loneliness, one he would not willingly relinquish. 

"We've missed our chance, haven't we?" she said, voice breaking the silence. 

He turned his neck to read her expression, but all he got was a mouthful of hair from the top of her head, still snug against his shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"Everyone in that pavilion knows who I am. There's a part of me that was hoping to, I don't know, dye my hair red and hide among the Gerudo for the rest of my life. Which I know is selfish, and quite possibly divinely disrespectful, but I just thought that after all this time, the Goddess would grant us at least a little peace."

He took a long moment to consider his phrasing before responding. "It was too late before I even went to get you," he finally admitted. "Ember knew I was headed for the castle. So did many others. They knew I was going to bring you back or die trying. I suppose we could have faked my death, but that might make life difficult down the road." Her arms squeezed tighter around his middle, and he felt her shudder against his back. "Besides, it might be a little tough to live with the Gerudo," he said, lightening his tone to try and boost her spirits. "For one, we'd have to sneak me in. And once we managed that, I would never be allowed to go outside."

He expected her to chuckle, and then he'd have an opening to amuse her with his stories of running around as a vai, fooling just about no one, but she lifted her head and he saw no levity in her expression. She was close to tears. "That's just it though. I would be safe with the Gerudo. They don't know me now, not like they used to, but I'm sure I could convince them to accept me. And then you would finally be granted your freedom. You could go off and do whatever you wanted."

Ah. The heart of the problem. "My place is with you."

"But it doesn't have to be!" she burst out, still refusing to meet his gaze, eyes flitting from the trees to the grass to the weeds overtaking a rock on the side of the road. "I owe you the world, but you owe me nothing. And already, you are caring so much for me! You should be free to seek your own freedom, not stuck lugging around an ancient weight."

"Zelda," he said, making his voice stern, wishing she would just turn her head and look at him. "I owe you more than you know. And I am here with you because I choose to be; that's how it's always been. There is no reason for you to harbor guilt. I am free. I’m free to be with you.” That was all he’d always wanted, after all. The freedom to act as he’d always wanted with her, to kiss and touch her without their responsibilities and her father’s disapproval strangling their relationship. Couldn’t she see that this was their chance? That finally, after all these years, there was nothing standing in the way?

She stayed quiet for a few minutes after that; the only sound was Epona's hooves on the path and the shifting of the trees around them. "I suppose that's what I'm feeling, isn't it?" she finally said. "Guilt. You're right. You'd think by now I'd recognize the emotion. But I just don't know what's coming for me, and I don't want you trapped in it again.”

He could tell her that he wouldn't ever refer to being by her side as trapped, but she'd find a spoken ultimatum like that insincere. "You're a little short to be a Gerudo," he offered instead. This time, he succeeded in making her laugh. A little watery sounding, but he’d take what he could get.

"That's why we're going to Hateno," he explained, once she'd snuggled back up against him. "I know you'll want to see Impa, and we'll make that happen soon, but the Sheikah will push you to reclaim your throne and power as soon as possible. Hateno is so backwater that they won't care what you do. If it's peace you want, we'll find it there."

Her hair tickled his neck as she nodded. "Thank you,” she said, voice barely a whisper. "It seems that you are still capable of finding what I need, even before I know how to ask for it."

She held him tight as they continued down the path, but then she sat up straight behind him, snatched the Sheikah Slate from its place in his belt, and activated it. 

"Of course," he said, scoffing. "You've been itching to grab that since yesterday, haven't you?"

"Maybe," she said, voice coy. "Perhaps I've decided that it's time for it to be returned to its rightful owner."

"Oh no," he said, taking one hand from the reins to goose her on the thigh, making her squeak. "You gave the Slate to me. So now it's my turn to hoard it and never let my constant companion even get a glimpse of the screen."

"I let you see it! Sometimes." Link chuckled as she started scrolling through the Compendium. "And what is this? Have you taken a picture of everything in Hyrule?"

"Not everything," he answered, glancing back to find her scowling at a picture of... was it a spear? Maybe?

"This is most unfair," she said, glaring at the image. "It registered this? You can barely see the weapon! It's basically a picture of the grass! When I had the Slate, it took hours sometimes to get it to register an image. It wouldn't even accept the Master Sword!"

"Well," he said, tickling her thigh to feel her shiver under his fingertips again. "It just proves to you that it's my Slate now. It likes me."

"It's an inanimate object," she said drily, gently kicking the back of his calf in retaliation. "Essentially a glorified toolbox. There must be a logical explanation. Ah yes, I know. I suppose that the Sheikah who built the slate must have been acquainted with the hero and princess of that time. They must have been in love with the carrier of your soul, and despised mine, and programmed the Slate to react accordingly. That is the only explanation I will accept."

"Of course. How logical." He shook his head and chuckled as she winked at him, but let her keep the Slate. If nothing else, it kept her distracted from the road and the lack of villages along said road. And it was nice, to have her warmth at his back and her chatter in his ear, as though nothing had changed. His mood brightened even further by the lack of bokoblins in their usual forts. Already, their efforts were bearing fruit. 

But his spirits plummeted when Dueling Peaks Stable came into view. His sudden stiffening drew Zelda's attention away from the Slate, and she sighed as she saw it too. "Well," she said, voice bogged down with weariness. "I suppose we should have anticipated this."

Someone from Riverside had obviously ridden ahead with the news. Tasseren was standing out front with his entire family, along with way more people than the stable could comfortably house; there would be patrons sleeping on the floor that night. They were all dressed in bright festival clothing, which looked ridiculous considering the cold weather. They'd even dug up a flag with the Harkinian crest. Link had no idea how the hell they'd managed that with less than twelve hours warning. Maybe Lessa had sewn it; that was something she would do. But how did they know the pattern? 

Still, it was what it was. Zelda slid the Slate back onto its harness and drew herself up behind him. He sighed, and squeezed her knee to offer his support, knowing this could be his last chance to show familiarity until they were out of the public eye.

When they reached the small crowd, Link dismounted first, which was horribly awkward with Zelda behind him. He managed to avoid kicking her, and offered her his hand as she carefully slid down, her face drawn into a barely present smile. Her neutral face, what she used to wear at court. Once she was steady, she kept her hand on his arm, and tucked her other hand around as well, another gesture from a long dead court. Or maybe she just needed his support. Either way. 

"Welcome, your Majesty," Tasseren said, bowing low. "You honor our humble establishment."

"The honor is mine. Would you please do me the pleasure of introducing yourself and your family?"

The resulting display took half an hour, as Link slowly walked Zelda down the receiving line. She greeted each person and touched every hand, from Tasseren to a heavily blushing Darton. She spoke longer to the visiting merchants, asking about their trade and profits, until, after gently turning down Bugut's eager offer of fresh fish, she asked to retire, claiming fatigue.

They were bustled back into the family quarters. Zelda thanked Tasseren's wife for her kindness, accepted a tray for dinner, and smiled as the door closed behind the woman. Then, with a huff, she collapsed gracelessly onto the sitting room sofa. Link followed suite. "I'm sorry," he told her. 

She looked over, eyebrows raised. "For what, exactly?"

"I should have realized this was going to happen when everyone abandoned Riverside so early. I'm sure they're spreading the news as far as they can ride."

"Is that what happened while I was sleeping? You really should have woken me; perhaps I could have stopped them." She kicked off her boots and glared at them, but then her face smoothed and she turned to him with a soft look. "No, I'm being silly," she said, reaching out and laying her hand on his wrist. "Your apology is unnecessary. This is my life. It always has been and it always will be. Things like this are my duty to fulfill."

"Still," he said, not wanting to pick at her, but also not wanting to sweep her feelings under the rug. "It would've been nice to have a little more time.”

She graced him with a sad sort of smile, before shaking her head and reaching for the tray. "Well," she said. "We got peach cake out of the deal, so I cannot complain too much. Shall we start our meal with dessert?"

The food was good, but Zelda started to visibly droop as they ate. "Are you alright?" Link asked, as he watched her fight to keep her eyes open. Perhaps her claim of exhaustion had not been as much of a ruse as he thought.

"I feel fine," she said, pressing the palm of her hand over her eyes. "Just still so tired. I've been fighting it off for most of the day, but now I'm like a candle that's been whiffed out. I'm afraid I just need some more sleep."

"Understandable." The sound she made at that, some sort of gargle in the back of her throat, made him laugh. Only she would rank smacking a pig around with a sword above summoning the power of the Triforce. "Go to sleep," he said. "We can argue more about this in the morning." 

"Oh we will," she said with a glower, but her face dimpled into a smile as she helped him gather up the plates.

He delivered the remains of their meal to the kitchen, and brushed off the questions about his companion from the staff. He did take the time to speak to Tasseren and was able to find enough volunteers to set a decent watch for the night. With word spreading, the Yiga clan would soon be after the both of them, and there was no telling how fast they would be found.

When he returned to the suite, he found Zelda's boots lined up at the end of the bed and the Princess tucked beneath the covers, already asleep. He set his boots next to hers, liking the solid physical evidence that he was no longer running solo, and stripped his tunic, leaving him in his thin undershirt. The staff had left a pallet on the floor for him, which he appreciated, as there was no way he could fit comfortably in the kids' beds, short as he was.

Before sleeping, he tucked his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, considering. They needed a plan, soon. If they took too long to contact the Sheikah, Impa would send runners after them. The Yiga would smoke them out eventually. And they'd have to send word to each race, assuring them that a visit would be forthcoming, else they risk offending someone or other. He turned to his side, seeking out Zelda's outline in the dark, and whispered a prayer to Hylia, for strength for the both of them and whatever time the Goddess could grant.

He knew it wouldn't be much.

Link woke once in the night, knife in hand before he even had his eyes all the way open, to find Zelda patting frantically at her mattress, her breathing elevated. A quick check revealed no Yiga or monsters, and Link carefully set the knife down, focusing on Zelda. She whispered something, so softly that even he couldn't make out the words, and tore at the blankets. Was she looking for something?

Concerned, he sat up, trying to make out her expression, but the sliver of moonlight from the cracked shutter wasn't much to go by. She wasn't in danger, so what was wrong? And then she suddenly relaxed, tumbling back into the covers. Confused, he slipped up out of the bed and over to her, where he found her curled up with the blanket clenched in her fist. "Zelda?" He whispered, but she did not respond. She was asleep again.

This had never happened before. She was always such a sound sleeper.

He frowned, but decided to let it go for the moment, as she was safe as could be. He carefully stroked her hand, until she relaxed enough to the release the blanket, untangled it and drew the covers up around her. Once she was tucked in, he crouched close enough to see her face. She seemed at peace, brow relaxed and lips slightly parted. 

Goddesses, she was so beautiful. 

He lightly drew the back of his fingers along her cheek, and she didn't stir. He stood and checked the windows and door; the sentries were still in place, their eager loyalty keeping them awake and aware. He returned to his bed, but sleep proved elusive, so he spent the rest of the night watching her form in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took far too long, but that's life! I was planning to get them to Hateno in this chapter, but I figured I'd better quit while I was ahead. I should also mention that a lot of the various Zelda-styled curses in this fic were invented by Rose Zemlya in her OoT fics; they've stuck with me for years now.  
> Next time we'll finally make it to Hateno, and then get into the meat and potatoes of this fic! See you then!


	3. Chapter 3

Link must have dozed off at some point during his vigil, as he woke when a ribbon of light from the crack in the shutter shone into his eyes. A couple hours past dawn, then, which was a couple hours past when Zelda used to be up and on the move.

During their travels, he’d usually been the one who wanted to laze about in bed, as Zelda was the early riser. She’d disliked this at first, using it as an excuse to leave him behind at every opportunity, but as their relationship improved, she’d found his sleeping habits amusing. She’d learned quickly to make tea first thing, as the aroma was generally enough to rouse him.

There was no tea waiting for him today. She was deeply asleep, curled up on her side. Link climbed off his pallet and shrugged and stomped his way into his tunic and boots, but the general noise was still not enough to rouse her. Even throwing open the shutters to welcome the sun and the sharp cool breeze didn’t cause her to stir.

He considered her, and then went out to the kitchen to request a tray and a pot of tea. Worth a shot, right?

Unfortunately, the scent of the steaming tea was still not enough to wake her. He checked the Sheikah Slate, and seeing that the clock read half past nine, decided that he should take action. People claimed that too much sleep could cause even more exhaustion, so perhaps they needed to control the number of hours she spent asleep?

He tried to be gentle at first, but he ended up having to shake her to get her to open her eyes. Even then, the slow drag of her eyelids made him anxious, as did her unfocused gaze. “Link?” she asked, his name slurring into a yawn. For as long as he’d known her, she’d always been so alert in the early hours. What was going on?

“It’s morning,” he told her, releasing his grip on her shoulders. “If you need more rest, I can let you sleep, but you did ask me yesterday to keep us on a schedule.”

She sat up in answer, lacing her fingers together and raising her arms to stretch, causing a sharp series of pops to crack into the air. She dropped her arms with an abashed smile. “It appears I’ve been sleeping far too long already,” she said, kicking the covers down and swinging her legs off the bed. “But that food smells divine. Shall we break our fast?”

They ate quickly, and Zelda accompanied him to the kitchen, to offer her compliments to Lessa and thank Tasseren for his hospitality, and gently convince him that she preferred to leave the establishment without fanfare. She succeeded in her request, and within the hour, they were both up on Epona on riding along the road to Hateno.

“You know,” she said as they rode along, shifting from side to side where she sat behind him. “This saddle was not exactly designed for two people.”

He chuckled and glanced back at her. “I didn’t hear you complaining yesterday.”

“Yes, but that was then, and this is now. And if we keep this up for too long, I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow.”

Well, she did have a point there. He returned his sights to the road. “We’ll need to take turns riding soon enough; there’s some nasty terrain going into Hateno, and I don’t want Epona picking up a stone. Next time we travel, I’ll be sure to get you a horse.”

She hummed in reply and then wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling her body close into his as she had done the day before. “I can’t say I will be unhappy to ride next time, but for now, there are things to appreciate, aren’t there? I should keep that in mind.”

Link smiled and dropped one hand from the reins to squeeze her wrist. Indeed.

A cold drizzle was falling when he led Epona into Hateno, not enough to keep the kids out of the mud puddles, but enough to the keep their mothers indoors. A blessing, really. When Link bought and refinished the house, all the local gossips could talk about was him “feathering his nest,” so they’d be curious about Zelda, princess or not.

She climbed off Epona when they neared the inn. “I need to get her boarded, which may take awhile,” he told her. “Do you want to come with me?”

She shook her head. “It’s alright. I’d like to walk around the village a bit before we turn in for the night.”

“Okay. Come to the inn if I take too long or you get too cold.”

She sent him a wry smile. “I can take care of myself, Link. I’ll be fine.”

He still hesitated, but there really was no need for him to hover. He started walking Epona up the hill to the inn, and glanced back once to see her wandering towards the shops. Hopefully she’d get to know the clerks a bit, as they’d need to get her some better fitted clothing soon. Maybe she’d charm them into lower prices. And speaking of saving money…

He got Epona fed, watered, and brushed, and then went in to argue with Prima. The lack of travelers kept her stable costs quite high. Despite Link’s status as a resident, it took him quite awhile to knock her demands down. He grumbled to himself as he left; he needed to get Bolson to convert the covered hitching post on his property into a proper stable come spring. Maybe build some extra stalls for boarding horses and give Prima some healthy competition.

Zelda wasn’t in any of the stores; it took some wandering and asking around before he tracked her to the tiny shrine to Hylia tucked behind the mayor’s house. Her hands were clenched tight around her biceps, shoulders slightly hunched as she stared down at the statue.

He kept his footsteps quiet as he approached, not wanting to interrupt any reverence. She jerked her head to look at him when he stopped five paces from her, but then turned to focus back on the statue. “The dye shop survived,” she said. “Not much else is the same, but that shop is. It’s where I had the fabrics for the Champion’s gear treated; they had the blue dye specially made. The owner’s name was Pavel, and he made such a big deal over the pieces; I had to come back four times, remember? But his actions were really a kindness, as he knew I was happier traveling than I was at the castle, and so he made sure I could get out of there as much as possible. 

“The new owner is his great-nephew. Pavel went to help build Fort Hateno, and got himself killed. His wife threw herself off a bridge two weeks after they received the news.”

Link walked over to her, ground squelching under his feet. There was mud on her knees; she must have kneeled in front of the statue at some point. His mind raced, trying to decide the right course of action. Did she need comfort? Was it time to discuss Urbosa’s insistence that none of this was her fault? Should he offer to kneel with her and pray?

“I’d like to see your home now,” she said, cutting off his chance to try and help. “Please.”

He took her hand in his own, wanting to at least offer physical touch, and led her through the village. “These houses were build by the company that restored the house,” he told her as they passed through Bolson’s model homes. “They’ve founded a brand new city up in Akkala; I’d like to take you there someday.” Let her remember that not everything in this world was death.

She didn’t respond, at least not until they reached the sign outside his house. She glanced at the landscaping, and her countenance lifted a bit. “I like the flowers,” she said, admiring the fall blooms. “They’re lovely.”

“They’re just for decoration, but we can put a garden in next year, to grow your herbs. It’ll be nice to have a consistent supply.”

She squeezed his hand, a welcome show of vitality. “You’d let me do that?”

He shrugged, ignoring the blood warming in his cheeks. “My home is your home.” And may she never want to leave it. “Which means I should probably update the sign.”

That earned a little laugh, and he pulled her to the door, quickly unlocking it. When he led her inside, a real laugh escaped her lips as she took in the decor.

“Oh goodness,” she said, pulling her hand out of his grasp and lifting her fingers to her lips. “Oh, this is so typical.”

He grinned as he let her take in the sight, focusing on locking the door behind him and shrugging out of his soaked hood. “Well?” he said as he tugged off his boots.

"How many weapon racks does one person need?” Her incredulous tone made him bark out a laugh, even as he helped her out of her coat. She barely seemed to notice, still focused on all the weaponry. “This looks just like your old room in the castle!"

Link stopped up short from where he was hanging the wrap on the pegs by the door. “What?” he said, voice flat.

Zelda didn’t respond. Instead she flitted over to the shields mounted on the wall, tracking muddy water all over the floor. She didn’t realize, as her eyes were glued to Urbosa’s shield, shimmering in the dim light. Link chose to ignore the mess his Princess had just made, and pulled out the matches to start lighting the candles. “You never saw my room,” he said over his shoulder as he climbed up on the table to reach the overhead lamps.

“Oh yes I did,” Zelda said, tearing her eyes away from the shield and visibly wincing when she saw the puddle she’d left in her wake. To her credit, she immediately slipped out of her boots and started hunting for a rag. “It was a few weeks before you were appointed my knight. My father had just told me the news, and I was furious, so I snuck down into the barracks and tracked down your room.”

Link jumped off the table with a thump. His lips were twitching into a smile, and he crossed his arms as he stared her down. She was still opening drawers in his little kitchen trying to find that rag. “You hated me. Why did you want to see my room?”

"That’s exactly why I snuck in, silly. I was going to, I don't know, put spiders in your bed or a frog in your wash basin. I wasn't very fond of you back then, as I'm sure you recall. But then I looked in your room and saw this tiny bed and bureau and about seventeen swords and realized that perhaps starting a war with someone so dedicated to collecting sharp objects wasn't the wisest course of action."

Link collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs, shaking his head. “You really snuck in there? You never told me this before now.”

“I didn’t dare,” she said, wiping up the muck, having finally found the rag. “At first I barely wanted to talk to you, but then I was nervous that the confession would affect what you thought of me and destroy what was at the time a very fragile friendship. And then after that, I was trying not to appear overly familiar to you. If my father had found out I’d been in your room, he probably would have had you flogged. No matter that it would have been my fault, or that you were the Chosen Hero, his anger would have superseded all reason.”

She had a point there; the days leading up to the Calamity had been tense for more than one reason. And well… "I can't complain too much,” he said, kicking his legs up on the chair next to him as she finally settled down as well. “After all, I did read your diary."

The look on her face at that pronouncement broke his composure, and he threw his head back to laugh. When he dropped his chin back down, her face was in her hands. “Oh, Link, you did not. Tell me you did not. Oh, merciful Nayru, why?” she wailed.

“I must say it was enlightening.”

She peeked through her fingers, looking absolutely mortified. And adorable. “I cannot believe you did that. Does my privacy mean nothing to you?”

He shrugged, unrepentant. “At the time, I was desperate for anything that would jog more of my memory. I was getting back bits and pieces, but I wanted more. Your writing was so vivid; it helped fill in many of the gaps.”

If anything, she looked more horrified at his explanation. “But I was so awful! How can you be so flippant about this?”

“Oh, are you referring to the fact that you couldn’t even bring yourself to write my name for the first three years we knew each other? Or should we talk about the first time we were formally introduced? Where all you had to say was that you didn’t see why I was considered such a prodigy, as I was short and my hair was too shaggy. You were not impressed. I have it upstairs if you want an exact quote.”

“Oh goddesses,” she said, hiding behind her hands again. “Why me?”

Link laughed again, but then took pity and stood to start getting dinner put together, giving her a moment to compose herself. He had rice washed and in a pot and butter melting in a pan by the time she finally joined him. He handed her a knife and an onion and she went to work. “I hope you realize,” she said, slicing the top and bottom off and peeling off the skin, “that I do regret how much of a brat I was during that phase of our relationship. My behavior was abominable.”

“I must say, I was surprised. I knew you didn’t like me when I was appointed your knight, but I didn’t realize how far back the animosity went. When we first met, I thought you just considered me beneath your notice. But I was wrong; you despised me from the very beginning.”

“Oh, Link,” she said, dumping her onions into the pan to sizzle and setting down the cutting board and knife with a clank. “I didn’t hate you.” The statement was made to the spice rack; she was avoiding his eyes again. “I was horrifically jealous of you. There’s a difference.”

Now that made no sense. “You were not jealous of me, not at the beginning.” After all, she wasn’t lying. For all his talent, he’d been short and scruffy as a squire. “I didn’t get the sword until I was nineteen.”

“It wasn’t about the sword. Not at the beginning.” She grabbed the dried beef he’d unwrapped and starting slicing it. “Link, your father was one of the kindest men alive. He was so proud of you; at that ball, it was all he could do to contain his compliments of his son. And then there was my father, who could barely bring himself to introduce me to you. There I was, in the first silk dress I’d ever had commissioned, desperate for attention, and my father couldn’t even look at me. I was jealous of how much your father loved you. That’s all there was to it.”

Link took in her drawn face and teeth biting at her lip, and thought of the second journal upstairs, of the words of a man who loved his child, but failed miserably at communicating that to her. A man who couldn’t reconcile his duties as a king with his duties as a father. “I don't want to upset you,” he said, watching her throw the meat into the pan with an angry flick of the wrist. “But I know that your father loved you. Yes, he made mistakes,” he said quickly, as her eyes flashed up at him. “I’m not excusing him, because his actions had dire consequences for us all. But he did love you. When you’re ready, I’ll show you how I know.”

She swallowed, and looked at him, eyes still hard and flinty. “Very well,” she said, and then retreated to the table, leaving him to finish their dinner.

They ate quietly, their levity weighed down by the ghosts in the room. Zelda finished first and stood to start the dishes; he joined her once he finished his plate and began drying what she washed, a long-standing routine. The rhythm of it relaxed them both. “Bath?” he asked as she handed him the last plate.

“Not tonight,” she said. “Definitely tomorrow, but tonight, I just want to sleep.”

She climbed to the loft as he finished putting everything away and doused the lamps, and when he followed, he found her sitting on the edge of the bed, working on her hair. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, brandishing the comb. 

“Not at all,” he said, leaning against the desk to watch. 

She worked from the bottom to the top, before braiding it and tying off the end. She set the comb on the nightstand and then fell backwards across the bed, feet dangling off the edge. “Blessed Farore, I am still so tired.” She twisted to look at him, and he made himself focus on her face, not on the tempting pose before him. “Is this how you were when you woke up?”

He shook his head. “No. I was out climbing buildings within a few hours of opening the shrine. Barely slept those first few days.”

“How very strange. Of course, you were asleep and I was awake for a century, so perhaps the explanation is simple. We both need what we didn’t have. So perhaps in a few days, this exhaustion will wane. Your body seems to be back to normal, after all, so hopefully mine will follow.”

“You’re most likely right,” he said, watching as she sat up and turned down the bed. “Well, if sleep is what you need, then sleep is what we’ll give you. I’ll be right downstairs if you need me.”

“Oh,” was all she said in return, but the sudden lack of warmth in her voice was enough to give Link pause. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, uncrossing his arms.

“Nothing at all,” she said hastily in reply. “I just… wasn’t expecting to turn you out of your own room, that’s all.”

He shrugged. “There’s a little alcove downstairs; it’ll be more comfortable than the floor. We can get me something better to sleep on tomorrow. Tonight will be fine.” 

“Ah, yes. I see.” But despite the words, Link could see that she was unsettled. She’d folded her hands in her lap, but her thumb was rubbing at her wrist and her feet were flexing beneath the blankets. 

“Zelda.”

Her spoken name was enough to still her fidgeting, and he watched her jaw clench before she spoke. "I don't..." She trailed off, her eyes trailing down to her hands in her lap. "I don't want you to sleep downstairs. I want you here with me."

Link took in her statement, barely daring to breathe as she twisted his blanket in her hands. "I suppose it is too forward of me to ask, and we both know my father would disapprove entirely, but he isn't here anymore and I'm old enough to make my own decisions, and for the past two nights I've woken up more than once in a panic because I wasn't sure where you were. I just…"  
She glanced up at him, but then averted her eyes, ever shy. "I want you to be close. Please."

Link swallowed.

Time seemed to slow as he stepped away from the desk. The sound of his feet on the floor drew Zelda’s eyes, and she watched him as he crossed the short room to the corner of the bed. He couldn’t bear to look away, not even as his fingers gathered the hem of his tunic and drew it up and over his head. He dropped it on the floor and looked back at the Zelda, and found her still watching him. There was a hint of a flush on her cheeks, but her gaze was still intent.

As he rounded the corner of the bed, she pushed the blankets away from her and bent her knees to maneuver herself backwards to give him room. And Goddess Hylia, watching her slide across the bed, long legs stretching out as though begging for his attention, her expression uncertain but hopeful, roused his ardor like nothing else. He used his knee as leverage to climb on the bed, not wanting to turn away from her, and the squeak of the springs from his weight made this moment even more real. 

He was going to share a bed with her.

This was not their first time sleeping close, as the sheer amount of traveling they had done together had necessitated more than one cold night spent huddling under a shared blanket. But sleeping back to back on cold rocky ground had nothing on settling down beside her on a soft mattress with a pile of quilts to share. She took the initiative to pull up the covers, reaching over his torso to tuck the blanket around him, and he took the opportunity to cross the barriers of propriety and pull her close against him. She didn’t even hesitate to tangle her legs with his and rest her head against his chest. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her even closer.

She sighed, seeming to sink even deeper into him. “This is what I need,” she said, her breath tickling his throat. “Thank you.”

“You should have told me sooner,” he said. “I would have stayed with you if it would have helped. You woke up last night. Is this why?”

“Of course you noticed,” she said. “Yes. I was in a blind panic, trying to find you. In the blankets, of all places, and then I remembered we were in the stable and you were over on the floor, and I just relaxed, knowing I was safe. I’m sorry I woke you; the whole thing seems rather ridiculous now.”

“Not to me,” he said, pressing his head to her hair. “I understand.”

He pulled away from her just long enough to blow out the candle, and shifted her to a more comfortable position slightly lower on his side, determined to hold her as long as she would sleep.

He woke in the pitch back night, hand fisted around a knife, only the realize that the cause of his sleep’s disturbance was Zelda herself. She still clung to him, her hand clenching his shirt. She was trembling hard enough to rock him back and forth. He eased off the knife and brought his free hand up to press against her back. “Zelda?” he asked, wanting to confirm that she was awake and not in the depths of a nightmare.

She answered by tightening her grip on his shirt. “Zelda,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

She drew a shuddering breath, tucking her head. “I’m afraid to move.” Her voice shook, and she whimpered like a frightened child. “If I move, he’ll overwhelm me, and all of this will disappear. You’ll be gone, and I’ll be all alone. I’ll be back in the flames and filth, unable to even close my eyes, with nothing to sustain me except that bitch and her cursed power. I can’t move; I can’t lose you again.”

Goddesses.

She was gasping out little sobs, and he had to do something, anything, to make them stop. But what to do? They’d already defeated Ganon. He couldn't infiltrate her dreams to defeat him there, could he? His fingers flexed involuntarily, betraying his helplessness.

He had to get her out of here, get her moving and break the illusion. To prove to her that she was no longer living that nightmare; she was safe in his home and in his bed.

“Can I move you?” he asked. “I promise that you will be safe. I’m not going anywhere.”

He waited for a long set of minutes, until her fingers relaxed, and her head nudged his chest as she nodded. He swung his legs over first, gathering her in his arms and tugging her hips across the bed as he sat up. One hand scooped below her knees, the other squeezed her shoulders, and he lifted her up and against his chest.

In the kitchen, he lit the gas lamp on the table and set her down in a chair. He grabbed a blanket from the storeroom, and some of those herbs she liked in tea so much while he was at it, and had her wrapped up and the kettle on in quick succession. As the water heated, he knelt before her, sliding his fingers under the blanket to brace on her thighs. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, drawing her dull gaze from the door.

“What is there to say?” she said, shrugging one shoulder and sighing. “This reaction is illogical. I know that we defeated him, and that I am here with you, but there were so many times when I imagined such an outcome. It can be hard to realize that this one is actually real.”

“You said he could overwhelm you. Did that almost happen?”

“Occasionally. We fought back and forth over the years; there were times when I had him almost totally suppressed, but there were also times when he had me clinging to the seals. Especially towards the end; I couldn’t take much time to watch and guide you, because my power was waning and it was all I could do sometimes to keep him contained. That’s why he was able to form the body you fought. I wasn't strong enough at the point to stop him.”

And if he’d slept just a little bit longer, it would have been too late for them both. “But you did hold on,” he said to assure her. “Hylia granted you enough power to survive.”

She scoffed, a harsh sound in her throat. “Barely. And she begrudged every bit she offered me.”

The words shocked Link to the core. He’d always thought that the light within Zelda, the Sealing Power of the Triforce she’d managed to awaken, had forged a link between her and the Goddess. He’d thought the two had fought in tandem, the Goddess guiding Zelda to her path fighting Ganon, helping her keep him bound to the castle. After all, the Goddess had been eager to offer him her aid. Surely she had extended the same grace to Zelda. 

Was he completely wrong?

The whistle of the kettle interrupted that thought. He steeped her tea and brought it to her, once again kneeling in front of her and going as far as to lay his head on her knee as she drank. After she set the cup down, her hands tangled in his hair. “Well, this cannot be wishful thinking,” she said, fingernails lightly scratching his scalp. “I don’t think I ever dared imagine anything like this.”

He pushed himself up until he could look into her eyes. “Zelda,” he said. “I’m here. We both are. And nothing is going to tear us apart again. Ganon failed at permanently separating us, and nothing else in this world holds a candle to him. Know that. Know that I am here to stay.”

She tried to smile at his declaration, but her lips quivered, and he could see the build-up of her tears. He gathered her up and carried her back up the stairs to the bed, marking every shudder. She was still crying once they were tangled back up together in the bed.

And all he could do was hold her tight and hope she’d eventually fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting to see where I'm going with this?
> 
> I know Link's age may cause some head scratching, as I made him older than Zelda. Squires became knights at 21, and so I debated ages for quite awhile before settling on them making an exception and granting him knighthood when he got the sword at 19. This will come into play later, so just trust me?
> 
> Next time, Purah enters the scene! I'm actually pretty nervous about writing her properly, so wish me luck!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to warn that the language escalates a bit in this chapter. You’ll see why.

In the morning, Link found Zelda had rolled off him and curled into herself facing the wall. He sat up and carefully set his arm on the other side of her body, hoisting himself up to see her face. He winced as the bed shifted and creaked, but her eyes didn’t flutter. Even brushing back the strands of hair criss-crossing her face did nothing to make her stir.

Link sat back and considered. He didn’t want her waking up alone, especially after last night, but he doubted she’d slept well. She’d likely sleep until lunch again, which gave him time to pick up supplies. And the sooner he could get her comfortable and settled in, anchored to reality, the better. 

Decided, he stood and grabbed a small sheet of paper from his desk and penned her a short note, letting her know he was in the village in case she woke. He sanded it and let it dry as he washed up and dressed, and then folded it and propped it up against the vase he kept on the nightstand, where she would see it as soon as she turned over.

He grabbed fruit from the bowl to munch on and walked down to the village, marking the cold snap to the air. They’d have snow soon. He wasn’t the only one taking note, as three farmers were holed up in the general store discussing the weather. “Too early,” Pruce said once Link made it to the counter, nodding towards the farmers. “Or so they say. I personally don't see the difference a couple weeks makes, but they have nothing else to talk about with the harvest over and done with.”

Link shrugged. “A long winter is hard for any farm. Though I hope there's enough food to go around, because I need groceries again.”

“Of course, of course. And there’s no concern here; the village always has plenty. It’s the single homesteads out there that we’re worried about. But those men and their families know the risks of living in isolation.” As he spoke, he pulled out the book he used to track inventory. “The usual goods, I’m assuming?”

“Yes, but twice as much of everything each week.”

Pruce looked up from from his book, raising an eyebrow. “Twice as much, eh? This wouldn’t have anything to do with a lovely young lady who came in here last night, would it? The one with the most delightful smile?”

And now the rumors would start. “She’s my guest.” He had no right to describe her as anything else; it was up to her whether or not she wanted to reveal herself to the villagers. Though Hylia only knew what the story would morph into by the end of the day. Still, Pruce nodded and marked his order down just the same.

Next stop was Vestest, where he was able to coax Sophie out from behind the door with the promise of a large order of ladies’ clothing. Sure enough, her quivering subsided as soon as they started talking gowns, and her eyes lit up when he asked her if she carried any Tabanthian wool. By the end of the discussion, she’d pulled several tunics and trousers aside for her father to tailor to Zelda, and was happily sketching dresses and pulling out scraps of trim. “Bring her here tomorrow,” she said as he shouldered a bag of necessities. “I’ll have several ideas for her to choose from by then. I’m so excited!”

Link left the shop, the corner of his mouth turning up when Sophie squealed with joy as soon as he closed the door. He wouldn't be surprised if she had at least one mock up made by tomorrow. He waved to Seldon and continued on to the cobbler. He put a down payment on a new pair of boots and promised to bring Zelda in for measurements the next day and headed back to the house. 

As expected, she was still asleep. He dropped the bag of clothing next to the desk and headed downstairs to make brunch, deciding to make as much noise as possible. The pans clanged on the stove, and he slammed the door to the pantry as he went about frying eggs and stuffing them into rolls, but Zelda voiced no complaint at the noise. Once he had the table spread, he climbed the stairs again and frowned at her still form.

He risked her displeasure by pulling the covers off her and exposing her to the chilly air of the loft. This did nothing. He squeezed her wrist, partly to startle her out of sleep and partly to check that her heart was beating. The steady thump against his thumb and the rise and fall of her shoulders proved that she was still with him, but what the hell was going on? He braced his right leg against the bed and shook her. Nothing. He shouted her name. Nothing. 

He rolled her onto her back; her arms flopped awkwardly across her body. How could she remain unaware? Yes, she’d slept soundly back in the day, but never anything like this. He grabbed her right wrist and felt for her heartbeat again before placing her arm at her side. She had a heartbeat. Link licked his lips. No need to panic. She was just asleep. All he needed to do was wake her up. 

Fighting dirty with cheap shots to pressure points was the foundation of the Sheikah combat style. There were three nasty spots in particular, one on the neck, one on the lower back, and one on the shin. Link gritted his teeth and ran through them in quick succession, cursing the pain he would be causing. 

And still, fucking nothing.

In the barracks, the other squires used to joke about pouring water on him to wake him up in time for morning drills, but he’d never seriously considered the method. He glanced at the wash basin before shaking his head and regrouping. Water wouldn’t be enough, not if she wasn’t even reacting to a Din-damned torture technique . He needed something stronger. 

He hesitated as he opened his pack to consider his inventory. As her chosen knight, he was supposed to protect her from harm, not fucking cause it. But what else was he supposed to do? He pulled out a shock arrow, downed a shock elixir, and grabbed a second bottle to hopefully keep the after effects to a minimum. Back up the stairs, quickly, before he lost his nerve.

She lay there, still as stone. He stared at the arrow in his fist and closed his eyes for a moment, brow furrowed and lips tight. “Hylia forgive me,” he said, opening his eyes and driving the arrow down into the space between Zelda’s arm and torso. The force of impact set off the arrow, sending a hideous spark of electricity through Zelda’s body. She woke with choked gurgle and then heaved as she tried to suck in enough air for a scream, back arching and legs twisting as the arrow’s power ravaged her body. Link grabbed the arrow and flung it behind him, wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled her up to sit, his other hand flicking the lid off the elixir and pouring the liquid past her gasping lips. And goddess, her eyes meeting his as she drank, wide, betrayed, and filling with tears. 

But at least they were open. At least she was finally awake.

“What the hell, Link?” she snarled, as soon as the potion worked its magic to sooth her body. He ignored the tone of her voice and the grimace on her face and dragged her up and into his chest, twisting and pressing her to the mattress. He was still hanging halfway off the bed, and her legs were bent beneath his at an odd angle, but he didn't give a damn. He tucked his head into her neck and breathed her in, wincing at the faint smell of char. He’d burned her. The elixir would take care of the injury, but he’d fucking burned his own Princess.

She lay stiff beneath him for a long moment, but then he felt her chest press up into his and air escape from her lips as she blew out a breath, and her arms came up to wrap around his upper back. “What a peculiar situation,” she said, voice irritated despite her soft embrace. “How is it, that you hit me with a shock arrow and yet are now demanding comfort? Could you please explain?”

“You wouldn’t wake up,” he said, face still tucked into her collarbone. “I tried everything I could think of, but you would not open your eyes.”

He could hear her lips working as she worked out his words. “How long did you try?” she finally asked. 

“I shouted. I shook you. I even hit pain points to try and wake you. Nothing worked.”

She took that in, and then he felt her body release tension, allowing him to sink more fully against her. “I see.” She tightened her hold around him. 

They lay there until Link’s pulse stopped racing, his muscles relaxed, and his senses returned to normal. Once his body returned to a state of calm, he lifted his head to seek her out. She was looking out the window. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I’m sorry as well. I frightened you. I do not know the cause of this infinite fatigue, but it appears it’s getting worse instead of better.”

Link bent his arms and pushed himself up, hovering over her. “I know that it’s only been a few days, but I’m concerned. Purah’s lab is just a couple hours walk from here. Would you be willing to let her examine you?”

She smiled, strained and tired. “Of course I will.”

He left her upstairs with Sophie’s bag of clothing and started brewing the tea. She joined him at the table and they ate in silence before bundling up for the walk.

The midday sun was warming the town, but a bitter edge to the air led Zelda to tuck into his side for warmth. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, disregarding the stares from the people around them. Let them look. Let them talk. He was not letting her out of his sight anytime soon, not after that ordeal. And if he could keep her within physical reach, so much the better.

Zelda also noticed the looks, humming softly to herself. She did not, however, pull away from him; instead she surprised him by winding her arm around his waist. “I suppose it’s about time for the two of us to discuss where we intend to go from here,” she said, easily keeping pace as they started up the village hill. “Am I to reveal myself here? Or would you prefer we remain anonymous?”

“I leave that decision up to you.”

Her fingers flexed against his side, a token sign of her displeasure. “This is your home,” she pointed out. “The place you have chosen for respite. I will not take that away from you.”

“And I intend it to be your home as well, for now. I leave the decision to you.”

He peeked out of the corner of his eye, smiling when he saw her mulling over her words. She’d chew her lips raw by the end of the day if she kept that up. “Consider it,” he told her, to spare her lips the chapping. “There’s no rush to make a decision.”

As the climb became steeper, they separated from their close embrace, but Link caught her hand in his to maintain the connection. When the tech lab came into view, he spoke again. “I don’t know how much you’ve seen, but you should be warned that Purah is not how you remember. Not in the way you think,” he said, seeing her open her mouth to argue. “There was an anti-aging experiment that went wrong, and she’s reverted to the body of a little girl. She can be a bit sensitive about it so I wanted to prepare you.”

“How little?” Zelda asked, brow furrowed.

“About six.”

Her lips worked for a moment before she found words. “Was there a mental effect as well?”

“Somewhat. It’s hard to peg down exactly what’s going on in her head, but she has the attention span of a kid most of the time. Symin, her assistant, tries to mind her, but... well, you’ll see.” They’d reached the door, and Link paused to glance over at her. “Are you ready?”

“I don’t think one can properly prepare for what you’ve just described. Let’s go.”

Link opened the door and entered first. The creak of the hinges drew Symin’s steady gaze, and Purah’s as well, though her head bobbed up and down as she tried to alternate her attention between Link and whatever she was scribbling on a piece of paper. “Linky!” she cried. “Just who I wanted to see! You need to explain what happened with all the Divine Beasts!”

Then Zelda stepped in, peeking cautiously over his shoulder, and the young scientist’s eyes grew round before a look of maniacal glee crossed her face. “Zellie” she shouted, knocking over two glass jars as she scrambled to her feet. “Zellie, Zellie, Zellie!” she continued to chant, as she lurched across the lab and barreled into Zelda’s midsection, promptly lifting up her legs to dangle haphazardly from Zelda’s waist. Link had to quickly back up and grab the Princess to keep her on her feet. “Oh, Zellie!” Purah wailed, looking up with shining eyes. “I always knew you loved me best! And when Impa finds out you came to find me first, she is going to be so, so MAD!”

Zelda had caught the little girl by instinct, but now, still braced against Link, he could sense her internal panic. Thankfully, Symin reached their little group and peeled Purah off of her. “Please, Purah,” he said, pulling her back to the table. “Give her Highness a moment.”

“Oh, knock it off, Symin,” she snapped, kicking her little legs until he let go. “Don’t you get it? Zelda’s back after one hundred years! Which means that the Calamity is gone, which means that the castle is safe again, which means that we can finally get out of this backwater and into a decent lab again! Let’s get ready to celebrate!”

As Purah continued to caterwaul, Link stepped forward to better see Zelda’s face, which let him catch the minute shaking of her head as she dealt with the shock. “Yes,” she said to him, reaching out to catch his arm. “I see that I was right. No way to prepare.”

With that, she pulled him over to the table. “Purah,” she said, interrupting the girl mid-sentence. She surprised Link by dropping his hand to kneel, looking at her friend in the eyes. “There are no words to express how delighted I am to see you again. It’s honestly a little odd, to make a century long jump, but it’s a relief to see someone that I counted as one of my closest friends. I want to hear everything you’ve done. Everything you’ve researched over the years, how you survived the Calamity, how you came to be here, all of it.”

Zelda words and sweet, earnest tone had an immediate effect on Purah, as her grin nearly split her face in two. “Well, then what are we waiting for?” she cried, leaping up to her space of choice standing on the table. “Symin, bring out the beer! Zellie and I have some catching up to do!”

She had to settle for tea, though she rolled her eyes and called Symin a nanny goat when he delivered the service. Symin shrugged the insult off, as usual, and beckoned Link back to his haunt by the bookshelves as Purah began babbling answers to Zelda’s questions. “Have you gotten word to Kakariko?” he asked, eyes worried.

Link shook his head. “Not yet. I brought her straight here. She desperately needs time to recover, and though I know Impa would have the best of intentions, that’s not what she would find with the Sheikah.”

“I understand, but we need to get a runner there before the snow. Impa needs to know. A few days ago, the Divine Beasts shot out these enormous blasts of energy, and we’ve all been half panicked ever since. We weren’t sure if it meant victory or desperation. Impa and the others need to know.”

Link considered this. “Is anyone in town headed that way for the winter?”

“Not that I know of.”

Link glanced over at Zelda who was still smiling at Purah, and decided. “I’ll go there myself. She’ll be safe with the two of you; I can warp there and back in no time.” Funny, he’d told himself he wouldn’t let her out of sight, and here he was, off again as duty called. 

Still, the wrinkle in Symin’s forehead smoothed at Link’s words. “Convenient, that. Purah’s been griping that her Slate isn’t linked to all the individual Shrines. Keep an eye on yours. She may try to swipe it.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

They both turned their heads as something crashed to see Purah, now prancing about on the table, waving her arms to make a point. Zelda face was caught between amusement and horror. 

Link smirked and turned back to Symin. “While I’m gone, though, I need a favor. From both of you.”

That got Symin’s attention. “Something wrong with the Slate?”

“No, it’s about Zelda.” The man turned to watch her again, and Link followed suite. “I’m concerned. She’s been sleeping. Excessively. At first, I just blamed it on exhaustion from the battle, but this morning, she would not wake. I had to hit her with a shock arrow; nothing else worked.”

Symin’s brow furrowed. “It took a shock arrow? That is disconcerting.”

Understatement of the century. “Can you think of anything it could be?”

“Not off the top of my head, no, but we’ll run some tests. There’s bound to be a logical explanation.”

There would have to be, with everything Purah and Symin pulled out in preparation for a physical. Purah’s Sheikah slate was propped up, projecting a diagram onto the wall of the lab. Vials and needles and all sorts of nasty tools were spread out on the table, along with several textbooks detailing Hylian physiology. The sight gave Link hives, but Zelda looked perfectly at ease, shooting questions at the researchers and taking notes from the books on a spare scrap of paper. 

He knelt by her chair. “Are you comfortable enough here for me to leave for awhile?”

She fumbled, the pen in her hand clattering as it hit the table, and she grabbed for it before jerking around to face him. “Leave?” she demanded, a frantic note in her voice. 

“Just for a bit,” he said, quick to assure her. “Symin asked me to get word of our survival to Kakariko. If I use the Shekiah Slate, I can get there and back in an hour. I’d just be underfoot during all this anyway. But I’ll only go if it’s alright with you.” He’d rather not leave at all, but he could also do with not watching Zelda be turned into a pincushion. And he'd be quick. 

Her eyes seemed to flicker in the light, and she turned away from him. “I’m not your prison warden, Link. You are free to come and go as you wish.”

Link chanced a glance at the other two occupants of the room and found them bickering over a jar of red goo. His hands had been bracing his weight against the floor; he caught his balance and laid both on Zelda’s knee. “That’s not what I’m implying. I don’t want to leave you; I would rather stay close. But you seem to be content here, and so I would like to quickly do this favor to Symin. I agree that Impa deserves to know that you are alright. Are you willing to be separated?”

She rested her hands on his own and gave his fingers a quick squeeze. “Yes, you are right,” she said with a sigh. “Impa needs to know, and I’ll be fine here.” She smiled at him then, a hint of playfulness showing in the curve of her lips. “But don’t be gone too long. I refuse to sleep in that bed all by myself.”

Another glance proved that the scientists were still busy arguing, so Link dropped a kiss on her knuckles. A pretty blush stained her cheeks, and he grinned at her as he stood. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, and with a quick bow, he left the lab.

Kakariko ran warmer than Hateno, snug in a valley as it was. Cado and Dorian were used to Link paragliding right to Impa’s steps and moved back to let him through, but he immediately noticed their dour faces and clenched fists. “She’s alive,” he said and brushed past them as the smiles burst through.

Impa was awake, kneeling on her tower of pillows, and the ornaments on her hat clanked back and forth as she watched him enter. He closed the door behind him.

“Zelda’s alive,” he blurted, seeing the shadow that crossed her face as she realized that he was alone. “I came here with the Slate. She’s with Purah right now.”

The old woman closed her eyes, and her lips stretched into a wide smile. “Oh, Goddess Hylia,” she said, bowing at the waist until the edge of her hat obscured her face. “With gratitude in our hearts, we offer a prayer to thee. We thank thee for preserving the life of our beloved princess and returning her to us. And we beg thee to continue to grant thy divine grace to her as she leads this blessed land back to prosperity. In the name of the Holy Trine, Amen.”

Impa straightened, the crags of her face twisted into a satisfied expression, and she folded her hands in her lap. “Now,” she said. “Sit, and tell me all that has happened.”

Link obeyed, bowing and kneeling formally before the Sheikah leader and detailing both the battle with the Calamity and all that had occurred since. 

“I see,” she said, eyes hooded as he explained Zelda’s exhaustion. 

“It's not what took her mother, is it?”

“No. Her mother’s fever led to hallucinations and difficulty breathing. She barely slept in the days before she died. Loathe as I am to say it, Zelda is best served by Purah right now. If there is a solution, my sister will find it.”

“That’s what I hope to find when I return.”

Impa nodded. “You’ll both winter in Hateno then; it’s too late to travel through the passes. That’s fine, but we’ll be expecting her here with the thaw. There’s much to be done.”

Which was exactly why he hadn’t brought her here first. Still, he bowed. “We’ll be ready when spring comes.”

She snorted. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking, boy. Enjoy the reprieve, but remember that duty doesn’t end just because you’ve won us victory. She is still a Princess, and you are still her Chosen Knight. You’d best take care of her.”

He chose not to respond to that, bowing silently instead. 

After warping back to the lab, he entered to find a scene quite different than the one he’d left. Zelda was nowhere in sight, and Symin and Purah were sitting side by side on top of the table. When they saw Link, neither smiled.

Link hesitated, and then ground his teeth and walked forward to stand in front of them. “How bad is it?”

The two scientists exchanged glances before Purah spoke up. “There's nothing physically wrong with her. Her bone density, her blood, her vitals are all what we expect from a woman her age. She has a clean bill of health.”

“Then why—”

“The thing is, we don’t know exactly how the age of a soul affects the body.” The look in her eyes, wistful and a bit sad, reminded him that the young child before him was also a fountain of age old wisdom. “That’s why I tested the rune on my own body rather than risking anyone else. My soul is still over a hundred, and for all we know, once it decides it’s had enough, I’ll drop dead with no warning.

“Zelda's soul is almost as old as my own. And her soul is tired. I’ve seen cases before during the early years of the Calamity where people lost their will to live, and they didn’t even have to bother with the suicide. They just gave up and died in their sleep. And looking at what we’re seeing with her, that may be what we are facing. Somewhere deep inside, her will is faltering. So she will either live, or she die. She’ll find something in this world to tie her down and inspire her to regain her vivacity, or she’ll give up and die in her sleep.”

Link stared them down, his jaw grinding at the looks of pity in their faces. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Link,” Symin started, but Link didn’t bother to wait. He turned around and headed for the ladder, ignoring them both.

She was sitting on Purah’s bed, arms wrapped around her knees. She looked up when he stalked in, but then immediately looked away.

Her body language, frail and defeated, only made him angrier. “Please tell me that you’re not actually accepting this bullshit.”

“Is that what it is?” she asked, voice muffled by her arms. “It sounds reasonable to me. Even after all this time, my will is still weak.”

“You are not weak.” He moved forward to kneel in front of her. “I could kill them both for implying that to you. You fought Calamity Ganon on your own for an entire century, Zelda. I can’t even fathom the mental fortitude that took. You are the strongest woman I have ever met. I don’t care what Purah has seen is the past, or what they’re seeing now. They’re wrong.”

“But what if they aren’t?” she said, and he cursed the evenness of her voice. “If this is what is to be, then what can I do? If the natural course of life had occurred, we would both be dead. I am a relic from an ancient time; perhaps an unwelcome one for many people. If I am to die, then I—“

"Do you want to die?" He interrupted, incredulous. 

“I may not have a choice.”

"Oh, fuck that. Look at me, and tell me that that is what you want."

She finally turned her neck and met his gaze, and then Link saw the tears in her eyes. "No," she said softly, "but what am I supposed to do? Reclaim my crown? Rebuild my fallen kingdom? When I pray, I still have no answer. She still refuses to guide me. And now it appears when I have finally succeeded and won Her a victory, she will snatch my life away. I want to live. I don’t believe Purah when she says that I’ve lost my will. But I can’t say her words surprise me, because when has Hylia ever cared about what I want?

“If I die, I die. And I will have to accept that.”

Link pushed himself back to stand, wanting something solid under his feet. “Are you listening to yourself?” he snapped, crossing his arms. “Because I can’t believe the words I’m hearing coming out of your mouth.” That got her attention. “You’re blaming this on Hylia? That’s even worse than Purah’s ridiculous theory. Why do you speak of Her this way? She gave both of us invaluable aid. We wouldn’t have defeated the Calamity without Her. Yes, I know it was frustrating that your power didn’t awaken when we wanted it to, but that doesn’t diminish what She’s done for us.”

Zelda shook her head as he spoke, standing up from the bed and brushing the rumples from her clothing. “You say that because you don’t understand. None of you understand.”

“Zelda,” he said, making an effort to school his voice. “I don’t. I don’t understand where this anger is coming from. Before, I know your struggles were difficult, and I’m not trying to minimize them, but what you’re saying now is bordering on blasphemy. If the Sheikah hear this, it will cause problems.” She laughed at that, short and bitter, and his fists clenched. “Zelda, seriously,” he said, temper rising. “This isn’t a joke. You used to aspire to your mother’s faith. You’re acting like you hate Her, and I don’t get—”

“Oh no. No, no, no. She is the one full of hatred!” Link stepped back, startled by the raw anger in her voice. “She may have accepted my grandmother and my mother; She may even have loved them, but me? No, she would never love me. She would have been pleased if you’d saved Her a lot of trouble and just left me on that field to die. And do you want to know why? Do you want to understand why She despises me? Because She is obsessed with you. You are the one She loves, and She was willing to let the kingdom burn just to get me away from you!”

Her chest heaved as she finished speaking, and Link watched her eyes widen as she realized what she’d just admitted. He stepped towards her, reaching out as her fingers covered her mouth, and then she shook her head and dodged. He tried to grab her arm, but she wrenched it away and ran out, trying to slam the door behind her. Link got his arm up in time to block it, but by the time he got over the threshold, she was already out of sight.

He let her go, frantically trying to process everything she’d just said. He fell back to lean against the doorframe and rubbed at his face. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?” he asked aloud, and then winced and found himself wishing the words felt less like a prayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE!!!!
> 
> To be honest, I doubt my pace is going to get much better. Since posting the last chapter, I fell down my basement stairs and seriously injured my back and neck. I’m recovering fairly well, but I get a lot of migraines and headaches now, which makes staring at a screen difficult sometimes. So yeah... Moral of the story... HOLD ON TO THE DAMN BANISTER.
> 
> Next chapter, fun conversations will occur. See you then!


End file.
